


Christmas Cheer

by kelex



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, Holiday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelex/pseuds/kelex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim's not having a Merry Christmas at all until Blair steps in and takes charge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Cheer

## Christmas Cheer

by Kel

Author's website:  <http://crystalshard24.tripod.com/sentinelindex.html>

The characters do not belong to me. They are the property of Pet Fly. I am making no money from this, I am doing it for love of the characters and my own personal fulfillment.

To Patt for the quick read-through to make sure it all made sense. This is for Rogue.

Author Notes: Completely un-beta'd. Mistakes are mine. "Adeste Fidelis" is Latin and can be found on "White Christmas with Bing Crosby" CD and "Stille Nacht" is German and the lyrics to both can be obtained by contacting me.

* * *

_Christmas cheer doesn't come in a twelve pack case, big guy,_ Jim thought to himself. _It comes in a five foot seven inch package with long curly hair and bright blue eyes._ Jim threw himself onto the couch and dug through the stack of Blair-detrius until he found the remote and clicked on the TV. 

And just as quickly fumbled to turn it off again. The blaring volume hit his Sentinel ears and he tried to clap his hands over his ears and ended up breaking the three-quarters full bottle of beer over his temple instead. Cursing and swearing as the alcohol mixed with his blood in the slashed open scalp, he kicked at the offending TV as he stumbled into the kitchen. _Goddamned kid!_ he shouted to himself as he took the sprayer and sprayed his scalp. 

He had his eyes closed and didn't see Blair come in but he definitely heard his Guide singing softly as he came down the halls. "Adeste Fideles laeti triumphantes; Venite, venite in Bethlehem; Natum videte regem angelorum: Venite, adoremus, Venite, adoremus, Venite, adoremus, dominum!" 

_Only Blair by-God Sandburg would be singing in the original fucking Latin!_ Jim ranted as he picked slivers of glass out of his skin. 

By the time Blair got to the door, he'd switched to a German rendition of Silent Night. "Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht! Alles schlft, einsam wacht Nur das traute hochheilige Paar. Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar, Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh. Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh." His key slipped into the door at the last refrain, and before he could continue the serenade he saw Jim at the kitchen sink. "Oh my God! Jim, what happened! Never mind, move. Over, let me see that. Give me the dishtowel." 

"Sandburg, get a clean one! That's got God only knows what on it!" 

"Right, right, sorry." Blair dug in the drawer and came up with a clean dishtowel. "Are you drunk, Jim?" he demanded, slapping the towel over the lacerations on Jim's scalp. 

"What the--No, I am _not_ drunk, Sandburg!" Jim winced as his Guide forced him to sit on the kitchen floor and crouched beside him, applying pressure to the bleeding. 

"You smell like you jumped in a tub of it. Never mind. Jim, what happened!" He lifted the dishtowel and checked the bleeding. "I think you got all the... glass? Out." He put the towel back down and held it there firmly. "Here, lay down." 

"Lay _down?_ On this floor?" 

"Jim, the way you clean it, you could damn well _eat_ off of it, now _lie down!_ " When Blair shouted in his Guide voice, Jim obeyed quickly, lying down with his head cradled in Blair's lap while the Guide tended to him. "Now, for the last time, _what happened?_ " 

"A beer bottle got broken over my head." 

"I leave you alone for two days and you get into a bar fight? Can I not take you anywhere, big guy?" Blair complained. "Man, you should know better." 

"I. Did. Not. Get. Into. A. Bar. Fight," Jim gritted out. His head lying in Blair's lap, so close to the thing he desired most didn't help his temper any. 

"Uh huh. So how did a beer bottle get broken over your head?" 

Jim pondered, and as he pondered, Blair pressed down harder on his head wound. "Jesus, Chief, lay off! That _hurts!_ " 

"My but you're cranky. And I'm waiting," he said, staring down into Jim's eyes. 

The Sentinel heaved a huge sigh, the sight of Blair staring down at him too intense to deal with. "I sat down with a beer after I plugged in the Christmas tree, and flipped on the TV, looking for the weather forecast for tomorrow. When I turned it on, the sound was blaringly loud. I tried to clap my hands over my ears and instead clobbered myself in the head with my beer bottle. It broke." 

The loft was silent for a moment, and then the quiet was shattered by great whoops of Guide laughter. "Okay... that seals it... you get my Klutz award... for _that_ move... Christ, that sounds... like a Sandburg moment!" 

"You're _not_ helping. I thought that was your whole reason. To help your Sentinel." 

"I am helping my Sentinel. I'm keeping him from bleeding to death. I am also getting no small amount of hilarity out of this moment." 

"Just remember, Chief, payback's a bitch." 

Then Blair turned the puppy eyes on full force. "C'mon, Jim, you wouldn't do anything to hurt me now would you?" A growl was the Guide's only answer, and it prompted more howls of laughter. "Oh, man, I think I broke something. I haven't laughed that hard since Rafe tripped over Rhonda's desk and landed headfirst in Simon's lap." 

Jim smiled gingerly. Rafe had spent the better part of two weeks avoiding Simon and Major Crimes the best he could. "It's the truth, Chief." 

"I know, man, you're _not_ that creative. Nobody could come up with something like that." Jim's eyes were still closed, and Blair's expression changed as he looked down fondly at the man who's head rested so trustingly in his lap. _Three days before Christmas, and you're drinking beer instead of eggnog. What's on your mind, big guy? What you trying to drown? Wish I'd thought of that,_ he mused idly. Drowning the constant lonely ache for his roommate would have seemed ideal... except for the fact that there wasn't enough alcohol in the world to even begin the dulling process. So deep in his musing, Blair didn't realize his thumb was stroking Jim's cheek comfortingly. 

Jim didn't crack his eyes open as he felt Blair touching his face. But when the touch settled into a soothing stroke, he slitted his eyes open just enough to see that Blair's thumb was caressing his cheek. He didn't say anything, just sighed softly and enjoyed the slightly intimate touch. He wanted much more, but didn't dare to say it. This was their first Christmas together after the most horrible year of their lives; Blair's death, the diss, and the Guide was still battling his way through the last firearms class and would be receiving his shield in February. He'd been walking on eggshells with Blair the last few months, and things had finally settled down into their normal routine, and Jim was terrified of another shake-up. 

Neither man knew how much time had passed, but Blair's startled throat-clearing brought Jim out of his own musings. "Uh, Jim?" 

That's when Jim realized how he'd turned. He'd turned his cheek into the caressing hand, and that caused him to be lying on Blair's thigh, his mouth only a few centimeters away from the object of his lustful cravings. With each puff of breath, his Sentinel-sharp eyes could see the rustle of cock under denim, and it caused a surge in himself. _Oh, God... please let it be._ "Yeah, Chief?" Jim's voice was quiet and a little rough. 

"Could you, um, like, move your head a little bit? You're getting kinda close to downtown." 

"Downtown?" Jim chided playfully, moving his head as Blair directed. "You got a city between your legs, Chief?" 

_Oh, man, oh man, why is he NOT freaking out, this is NOT good, not good..._ "Huh? Oh yeah, run by Mayor Johnson and the Twins." 

Jim snorted. "And I bet it's a crooked city." 

"All the way to the right, man." Then Blair flushed. _I didn't just tell him which way I hang my cock..._

"Tucked high and to... the... right..." Jim trailed off as he realized what he'd just revealed. _Oh, damnation._ "I--" 

Blair's eyes widened as Jim revealed his knowledge of Blair's hang. "Jim," he whispered, for Sentinel ears only, his hands tight on Jim's shoulders. "I gotta know." 

"Know what, Blair?" Jim answered back, just as softly. He was holding his breath, waiting for Blair's question. 

"It sounds like--at least I think that--do you want me, Jim?" 

Jim exhaled in a rush. "I want you very much," he confirmed, looking up at his Guide, the lacerations on his scalp all but forgotten. "I want you so much I ache for it." 

Blair gasped softly at Jim's confession. "Oh, Jim..." 

"Do you want me?" 

"More than I can say," Blair answered instantly. "For longer than I can say." 

Jim pushed himself up on his elbows and Blair lay down beside him, both men now stretched out on the kitchen floor. "We really should get up out of the floor now," the Sentinel said idly, twirling a lock of Blair's hair around his finger. 

"My Sentinel, how romantic. 'I love you, but now we need to get out of the floor.' The words I waited four long--ow!" Blair's teasing was interrupted by a tug on his hair. 

"Hey, if your knees don't mind the hardwood floors, it's okay by me." 

"Knees?" Blair asked blankly. Jim raised an eyebrow at him, and Blair flushed again. "Oh." Jim let his mouth spread into a grin. "And you still smell like beer." 

"So come and sponge me off," Jim offered with a lascivious grin. 

Blair stuck out his tongue as he got to his feet and helped Jim to his. "Sorry, big guy. You sponge yourself off. Then meet me in bed." 

"Upstairs," Jim said gently. "Our bed." 

Blair nodded as he caught his lip between his teeth. "Our bed." 

"Chief?" 

"Yeah, Jim?" 

"I love you." 

"Hey, Jim?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I love you. Always have, man." He closed the half-foot of space between them and lifted himself up to press a kiss against Jim's mouth. The Sentinel's hands came up and cupped Blair's face, thumbs rubbing his cheeks as his tongue swept teasingly into his Guide's mouth. Jim gasped as Blair latched onto his tongue, sucking and nibbling it as he allowed Jim to do the same to his. 

A few moments later, both men were breathless and panting. Blair's lips were already swollen and Jim rubbed a soothing fingertip over them. "How about we forget the shower and go straight to the lovemaking?" 

With dilated pupils, Blair nodded agreement. "I'm not afraid of hard and fast." 

Jim grinned as he tapped Blair's lips with his fingertip again. "Glad to hear it, Chief, because that's my favorite tempo to be fucked to." 

Blair's eyes almost boggled. "You--I thought--I mean, I expected--you want the bottom??" 

"I. Want. The. Bottom," Jim enunciated clearly, pressing a kiss on Blair's mouth with each word. "Please?" 

_Like I'm going to say no to getting my cock in THAT ass!_ "Well... since you beg so prettily... okay." 

Jim didn't quite hide the grin as he dragged Blair upstairs with him, leaving a beer-soaked shirt on the stairs, jeans and shoes on the landing, and boxers balled up and thrown towards the hallway. He dropped onto the bed, stroking himself as he watched Blair strip, and then made room for Blair between his thighs as the Guide rolled into the bed. "Take me, baby, I'm yours," Jim said, light dancing in his blue eyes. Playfully he rolled onto his knees, wiggling his ass at Blair. 

Blair pounced, running his hands over Jim's firm cheeks, spreading them and blowing puffs of air across the pucker, watching it dance. "This is what I asked for, Jim... for Christmas. This was my Christmas wish, that you'd love me like this." 

Jim rolled over onto his back and gazed up at Blair, who moved to lay on top of him. "I do love you, Chief." 

"Jim?" 

"Yeah, babe?" 

"Say my name." 

At once, Jim knew what Blair wanted to hear. "Blair Jacob Sandburg... I love you. I want you, I need you... and now that you're part of me, I never want to be separate from you ever again." 

"Oh, man..." Blair stretched slightly and kissed Jim feverishly, his hand pumping his cock as Jim reached for the lube by the bedside. With a trembling hand, Blair used the lube on his cock first, and then on his fingers as he stretched Jim open. He rested the slick head against Jim's cheeks, then stopped. "Protection?" he asked softly. 

Jim shook his head. "I trust you. You're healthy. I'd know if you weren't. I want to feel _you_ , not latex." Blair nodded, tears silvering his eyes as he pushed slowly into Jim. "Blair, don't cry. We've got forever for this." 

"You just... you make all my dreams come true!" He slid inside Jim, his lip between his teeth as he felt his Sentinel welcoming him. Their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle, and finally, Blair felt whole. "I never thought I'd find a love like yours." 

"No, baby... a love like _ours,_ " he said, emphasizing the shared part. "This is _right._ " Each stroke of Blair inside him made him feel like he were flying, out of his body. He wrapped his hands in the sheets, and then was amazed to feel Blair's hands sliding down his arms, forcing his fingers out of their fist and lacing their fingers together. "Oh yes!" Jim sighed, loving the full-body contact that caused. Blair's body rubbed against his with each stroke. "Take me, Blair, make me yours... then I will make you mine." 

Blair gripped Jim's hands tighter as he said that, his strokes plowing faster and deeper, his hips angling to reach Jim's prostate with his thrusts. When he did find Jim's gland, the Sentinel roared loudly and arched his back, pulling Blair's cock deeper into him. "Jim!" Blair shouted, his head resting on Jim's shoulder, trembling as he came. The force of the cock shooting inside him, coupled with the scratchy hair rubbing against his own cock brought the Sentinel to a blinding orgasm. 

As Jim came, he marked Blair's throat, sucking hard and nipping sharply. "Mine now," Jim breathed in his ear. 

"Yours, always. And mine too." 

"Forever." 

Blair rolled over and looked at the clock, squinting as he panted. Five past midnight. Christmas Eve. "Merry Christmas, my Jim." 

"Merry Christmas, my Blair," Jim echoed. "It just came a little early this year." 

* * *

End Christmas Cheer by Kel: dragonbane4@aol.com

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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